


dies natalis

by nequas



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Fluff, Gen, M/M, Slice of Life, i... guess?, it's just silly fluff i decided to write some time ago and decided to post here.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 04:39:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14742159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nequas/pseuds/nequas
Summary: it seems that even in noxus, some secrets aren't so damning when brought to light.





	dies natalis

**Author's Note:**

> just some silly birthday stuff i wrote as a self-indulgent drabble elsewhere. since he was released on the 23rd of may, i'm shoving this out here a bit late. 
> 
> happy 6th birthday, big guy.

the dawn of his fourty-second birthday has _barely_ broken through by the immortal bastion’s hills, yet the might has long arrived to report for the council duties he’s attained after the new government had been established. as usual, there’s no fanfare about it as he keeps the date under wraps, but he’s sure if the ones in charge of propaganda came across the date, they might try to make it into some cheap event to appease crowds; it’s a tasteless thought and while his reason to hide it away has less to do with public view and more with his own lack of care for the date, it only enforces the sentiment with twice the intensity. 

as far as he recalls, the only people who knew of his birthday were either draven himself or late cyrus, long buried with the honors of a true noxian commander. there are no expectations for celebration or gifting, no second thought given to it. a day like any other — or so it should be, he thinks, as he breaches through the trifarix council’s room. inside, only jericho is present. in guile’s defense, they are _both_ early. it’s no surprise, given how both of them are. devotion to the empire, devotion to the cause: those were two things that set their paths, that brought them where they were. 

he isn’t expecting the amused knowing gaze the grand general casts upon him from his seat, of course. but coming from a man as _cryptic_ as swain, he isn’t too surprised. that doesn’t stop him from quirking an eyebrow in response. 

“—have you by chance heard any good news this early in the morning, jericho?” 

“not _quite_ , no.”  


finding himself his sit by the council’s table, darius keeps his gaze upon jericho for a moment longer, as if questioning him. as usual, the man remains unwavering as he ignores it in favor of petting his unsettling little six-eyed crow with one gloved, human hand. the nasty habit of hiding away his clawed hand in the folds of his cloak seemed to still hold, as far as the hand could tell. the motion comes to a halt as jericho places his hand over the wooden surface of the table. 

silence doesn’t hold long as the older of the two picks up from where he left their conversation. 

“but i have indeed _heard_ of something. something _curious_ , too, if i may be so bold.” 

that alone piques darius’ interest back up. while the vision’s tone is light enough one could assume the subject is not too serious, given their setting and the fact the man’s tone is often deceptive in its own right, his expression hardens briefly. they wouldn’t be tending to council matters without guile’s presence, clearly, yet— 

“ _just_ how long did you plan on hiding your birthday?” 

oh. 

**_oh_. **

darius’ expression falls into one of mute but honest surprise. he hadn’t been expecting that. even if swain somehow came across the meaning of today’s date, he never really expected him to make a point of telling him he knew. certainly they were on good terms, certainly they’ve had their share of personal conversations aside what they shared for the nature of their work, certainly they were friends, but this still comes to the hand as something unforeseen. 

nothing much too new when it came to his ally, he knows, but _even so_. 

“so draven told you.” 

“naturally.” 

“ _the little traitor_.” 

the might groans under his breath as swain chuckles at his frustration. he looks towards the council room’s closed doors as he muses over what an interesting scene this would be for the guile to walk in on. surely there’s _nothing_ shameful about what transpires now, but to darius, this is a little more embarrassing than he’d care to admit. it seems true now that no secrets were safe from the grand general, even the most menial ones. 

“truly, darius, i do not see what point you were trying to make, hiding something so simple. by any means, i’m certain you know far more insidious things about me.” 

“i see no point in sharing the date, either. it’s a day like any other.” as he speaks, his fingers drum over the wooden table and the unblinking eyes of jericho linger upon the gesture, to make it known he has noticed it. it matters little to darius as he refrains none from it. truth is, his lack of desire to share came as a deeply entrenched habit from childhood. he had no reasons to celebrate then and that carried on long years, well over the early stages of his glory into present time. 

“now, that isn’t only humble, but unwise— we _both_ know that your birthday holds a great deal of meaning, and if you cannot see it on a personal sphere, then see it for what you have achieved. noxus would be lacking in its glory without it.” it’s clear to him right then why jericho outwitted a demon: he did not know a man with a more silvery tongue nor did he know any other man with such precise, charming wording. a half-smile growing upon his lips, he shakes his head. 

this man, this _menace_. 

“your eloquence never fails to surprise me.” 

all that swain offers as response is a soft chuckle before the guile makes their (—though he should say her; the deceiver’s ruse is useful but not too pallatable for darius himself) presence known, with all their eccentric attire. it cuts their conversation short and soon enough, both are not simple men but the might and vision, focused thoroughly on the matter at hand. it’s all about a treaty, but regardless, the reunion goes by fast with their usual efficiency. last to arrive and first to leave, the faceless excuse themselves, something about other professional matters to br settled. in his mind,  the hand jabs at how professional must black rose’s matters be. it’s left unsaid, justly so. 

after the third member of the council is gone, it takes a brief moment before jericho stands from his seat and walks towards darius’ own, murky red eyes, unreadable as usual, accompanied by a knowing smile. he’d would wager there’s a mirthful glint to them, but then again, by all he knows of his long time acquaintanc, easy banter usually put the man in good mood. with him seated, the grand general stood taller, the advantage point being his. human hand perching itself upon a pauldroned shoulder, the younger of the two can’t help but be conscious of this proximity. this is not an unknown position for him, but a sense of novelty sticks to it nonetheless, as they both are reserved men.  


this sort of closeness without the prerogative of intimidation is _quaint_ , though not entirely in a bad sense. darius can’t pinpoint exactly why it feels so remarkable.  


**“** happy birthday, my friend. **”** little words like these sound strangely solemn in the voice of the vision, he won’t deny that much. he pats him on the shoulder, touch light and lingering over the black steel that covers it, and when the might looks him in the eye, there’s a mute sort of fondness apparent, one that is reciprocated with a small smile on his own side. “and may there be many others in the future for you.” 

strange, this warmth between men made of iron.  


“… thank you, jericho.”  


in response, swain bows his head in acknowledgement before gesturing for his raven to come. the bird obeys, perching itself upon his shoulder. darius isn’t sure if that is the proper way to answer to this well-wishing, but it’s however much he can offer at this point of time. as the grand general leaves to attend whatever matters the empire requires of him, the hand watches him leave and mulls over the fact that _perhap_ s it’s unwise to be so at ease sharing personal information with the demon general himself. he knows a liability when he sees one, he knows exactly what this warmth may mean, how it could carve away from his metaphorical armor if it kept on growing, like river carves through stone.  


—as it turns out, he can’t quite find it in himself to to care now. 


End file.
